Firestorm evacuees in tents at Walmart pack up after...

1of 8Evacuee Josaiah Darby, 3, waits in a shopping cart as his mother Autumn Darby (right) looks through items at the Target parking lot in Chico, California, on Sunday, Nov. 18, 2018. Autumn and her son Josaiah lost their home after the Camp Fire tore through Paradise.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

2of 8Evacuee Doug Anderson (left) secures his car as he gets ready to leave a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

3of 8Evacuee Pete Pingul gets his belongings together as he gets ready to leave a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart following the Camp Fire.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

4of 8Evacuee Pete Pingul gets his belongings together as he gets ready to leave a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

5of 8Evacuees Kristi Pingul (right) and her husband, Pete Pingul, get their belongings together as they get ready to leave a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

6of 8A man who didn’t want to give his name eats at a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart following the Camp Fire.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

7of 8Evacuee Pete Pingul takes apart a tent as he prepares to leave a makeshift evacuation site at Walmart.Photo: Gabrielle Lurie / The Chronicle

Wildfire evacuees camping out on a dirt lot next to a Walmart in Chico unstaked their tents and packed up their newly donated belongings Sunday, ready to move on but unsure about where.

Many have lived at the makeshift tent city since the Camp Fire erupted Nov. 8 and chased residents out of their homes in Paradise, Magalia and nearby. But a volunteer operation at the retailer, which hosted food trucks, clothing and showers, was closing Sunday afternoon in a move meant to nudge the residents to move to more sustainable living.

“We’re being forced out, as far as I know,” Magalia resident Cindy Delano, 60, said as her fiance dismantled their tent. The two were planning to drive to the Bay Area and stay with her dad, but space there is limited, and they need to be out in a few days.

No city, county or Walmart official formally evicted the group, though rumors around the camp had many believing that was the case. The situation at the site was confused Sunday, and with no official organization running the operation, evacuees were left to rely on word of mouth.

Some said they would migrate to a neighboring Target parking lot, others planned to find beds with family or at shelters, and a few said they would stay put at Walmart.

Volunteers urged him to go to a shelter in Yuba City, about 45 miles south of Chico, which he described as a major inconvenience.

“Red Cross, my replacement documents and everything is three blocks down the road,” he said. “Why go all the way out there, when it’s an act of God just to get all those agencies in the same building?”

As donations disappeared from Walmart, many migrated around the corner to a former Toys R Us parking lot. Local community organizations have leased the building and are turning it into a charitable center. By Sunday afternoon, they were collecting tents for distribution to fire evacuees.

Amid the horror of rising death tolls and property devastation in Butte County’s Camp Fire, the evacuees were grateful for acts of humanity. And perhaps nowhere were those gestures as evident as at the Walmart in Chico.

Those who lost their homes and didn’t know where to go camped there. And those who didn’t know how else to help followed, armed with with nourishment, racks of clothing and U-Hauls filled with personal necessities.

But what was intended to be a temporary fix evolved into a life of its own, and many of the dwellers stuck around. Now, with more shelters open and gas cards at the ready, government officials and volunteers urged the residents to move to brick-and-mortar shelters designed for this sort of tragedy.

“Everybody thinks that we’re pushing them, or kicking people out — it’s the wrong verbiage,” said Rob Busick, who became a volunteer organizer of sorts after arriving the first day with his food truck. “We’re trying to help people out. It’s what we’ve been doing since day one.”

The air contamination from relentless wildfire smoke is unhealthy. Overnight temperatures are getting down to 30 degrees. Forecasters predict rain on Wednesday, and the grass lot where tents are staked is prone to flooding.

Young said he understands the rationale for closing the lot, but a familiar community remains within arm’s reach.

“You can’t see it now, on the other side of those trees, there’s a ridgeline — that’s our home,” Young said, pointing toward smoke. “This is our backyard. A lot of us don’t have a support structure. We don’t have anybody. … This is what we know.”

It’s a touchy subject for Walmart, as well as city and county officials.

They were quick to stress that there was no deadline for evacuees to leave the premises, but by Sunday afternoon there was little reason to stay. Volunteers posted a notice late last week that food, restroom, lighting and other services would be phased out by Sunday afternoon.

“The safety, health and security of these individuals is paramount, and they deserve proper sheltering and services to get them through this trying time,” Chico City Manager Mark Orme said in a statement. “This is particularly vital prior to the temperatures dipping even further and with rain now forecasted.”

Walmart hired a security company to help manage the situation. The private guards monitored the grounds wearing body armor, but according to one, “We’re not being told to kick anyone out.”

Many were already loaded up by Saturday afternoon. Ron Irick, 64, was testing the space limits of a borrowed minivan, jamming it with trash bags stretched with donations. There were six bags and one crate of clothing to go, and closing the trunk already looked unlikely.

Still, a man who looked to be in his 60s and an elderly, frail-looking woman approached him with gift cards. A few minutes earlier, girls had come by with a tray of sliced wraps.

“It’s hard to tell people no on things,” Irick said. “I’ve never ate really that good.”

The Magalia evacuee wasn’t bothered by the second move. Irick, his girlfriend and Jojo — a small dog with a Chewbacca face — were headed to a Yuba City shelter.

“The Red Cross really helped us out and got us a place,” he said. They’d stay there for the night, and maybe with his brother after that, he said.

A stranger approached Delano as she spoke to a Chronicle reporter Sunday morning at Walmart, and handed her a $100 bill. “Here’s gas money to get to the Bay Area,” he said, and walked off.

Megan Cassidy is a crime reporter with The Chronicle, also covering cops, criminal justice issues and mayhem. Previously, Cassidy worked for the Arizona Republic covering Phoenix police, Sheriff Joe Arpaio and desert-area crime and mayhem. She is a two-time graduate of the University of Missouri, and has additionally worked at the Casper Star-Tribune, National Geographic and an online publication in Buenos Aires. Cassidy can be reached on twitter at @meganrcassidy, and will talk about true crime as long as you’ll let her.